


if brokenness is a form of art

by katreo



Category: TWICE (Band)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Finally a fluff (?), Love Triangles, Not Extreme Angst, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Polyamory, Possible Character Death, Possible Character Death(s) are pretty frequent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-03-31
Packaged: 2019-02-26 06:54:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 5,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13230339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katreo/pseuds/katreo
Summary: These works have been conceived purely out of boredom.





	1. not her.

Her breath. The minty scents that hits. Her sounds. The sounds that she makes. Alluring, fascinating, delicious as Nayeon swallows them. Every moan, every whimper, every groan and yet in return she gives her every lie. Her hair. The silky, wavy hair that she cut not long ago is good to touch. Her skin. Nayeon plays with the hair standing on her skin and every little rising goosebumps at her neck under her fingertips.

And yet, Nayeon feels nothing.

She is not her. She is not the one Nayeon wants. Mina is not her. And, Nayeon doesn’t have the heart to tell her. Instead, she feeds her lies into the mouth she is kissing while holding the face that sits a constellation, a direction, a world.

And Nayeon feels nothing.


	2. bitter warmth.

There is a warmth growing and spreading from within her chest, blossoming like a little morning glory during the late summer to the early fall in her heart. The love she feels seems to be expanding every second as she looks on to her love, to the smile that spreads widely so as a diamond ring fits well into the finger. The joy she feels, the unexplainable joy, however, is accompanied by a cold.

A cold that runs through her spine and grows from within her core, freezing the warmth that once resided there. The cold, it’s freezing and it’s unbearable. It’s uncomfortable, this unmoving coldness. But she watches still.

Jeongyeon watches as the love she willingly let go, holds and accepts the hand of someone else. She watches as Nayeon walks down the aisle with another, walks with one that rivals the beauty of the world. She watches as her first, and last, love walks off with someone.

Someone that is better than her.

Someone that is not her.


	3. falling.

The hands she held. Those small, smooth hands that she held in hers. She felt that it did not fit or suit hers. They deserved better, those hands deserved someone who would take care of them. 

She placed the rings, their rings, into Mina’s palms before she clasped them together and grasped those small hands in her own. She brought them close to her mouth and warmed them up, blowing on them slowly as she tried to convince herself she was not dragging the end. Snow fell. Mina’s face spread a blush of red, and she thought it a beautiful glow. She took her gloves from her back pockets and put them on Mina’s. It was a little too big but it would keep her warm. 

And alas, Jeongyeon let them fall from her grasp, let them fall from her hands, let her out of her life as the snow poured down. She walked away and wondered if the tears rolling down her cheeks would dry by the time she reached back. She knew the answer. 

They did not. 

Instead, blood spilled on cold grey asphalt and hot tears fell from her lover’s. White coloured the red and shadowed her. Being in Mina’s arms should have felt warm, but Jeongyeon couldn’t help and feel otherwise.


	4. hell (i).

It was not always like this. It was sweet, endearing, loving, laced with kisses, soft and slow and gentle touches. It was like ascending to heaven, this love. Now, it brings destruction and despair. They shout, they scoff, they scream. They tear at each other’s throats, each other’s hair, and each other’s clothes.

They weren’t always like this. Nayeon can swear upon that. Their kisses now, hard and heated and rushed. It is unlike them.

Something has changed between them, Nayeon would always answer whenever asked. Something has changed between the love of Nayeon and Jeongyeon. And they both know it. They both know who caused it. Yet, they never utter her name. They are both at fault, and they wholeheartedly burn down their love for her.

They stay amidst the fire that destroys them.

They stay in the hell they created for her.


	5. a pawn and her queen.

Momo has known Mina her whole life.

Her queen, the one that hides behind a veil, a dark red veil. One says her beauty is unrivalled by any other in the platform. Another says her queen's presence, hidden by the veil, is too bright for any to even lay an eye clearly.

Her queen, the one that she serves to fulfil any and every command of.

She has known the queen her whole life; she grew up with her, played with her, and has done everything for her. She has known the queen, and the veil hides nothing. Mina is just like any other; though her beauty is truly one of a million. Her eyes as innocent as a doe’s, lips with the colour of blood and face dotted by many marks of grace that can be found only in the sky. Others say that the queen has a thirst and lust for blood, but Momo knows. She knows it is false.

Everything about Mina, everything of Mina. It is pure as snow.

Momo knows.

At war, they are with another kingdom. 

Momo has illustrated and made alive the words spoken by Mina. A formidable soldier, she wants to show Mina that she is one. Willing, wondering, wandering.

So when her queen asks her to die – when Mina asks her to moves two steps closer to the other side, when Mina asks her to move closer to her end – Momo does. 

For Momo knows what Mina wants, her queen always has a reason for it. 

A step.

And Momo understands that her life was at her queen’s hands since she was carved from the womb.

Another.

And Momo is blind for the love she yearns from Mina.

Her queen, as demanding as her requests and commands are absurd.

But she is only a pawn, foolish enough to fulfil each of them, herself in vain as she finishes the last.


	6. autumn.

She was hers. 

Dahyun was hers.

Some crossing-countries and a few seasons later, Momo finally found her. She found her, held her, kissed her and loved her. And they were finally able to tie the knot, when the law passed. 

They could have been one. 

Momo vowed that she could still feel her love’s breath and touch on her cheeks. She could still hear her love’s laughter, feel her happiness, sense her sorrow and wallow in her pain. But, it was impossible, others whispered as drizzles fell and Momo knew. 

The crackles of the dried orange leaves sounded heavy as she brought herself to her love, her hands holding a lone flower - the white rose that Dahyun had loved. It would be what Dahyun had wanted, to bring even a small light in the dark; Momo knew. 

Too soon, Momo loathed as she placed the rose next to the smile that she once loved. 

She realised she was hers but she was, now, lost.


	7. fire | hell (ii).

She’s a fire. Burning, blaring, blazing. 

She doesn’t want to be one. 

She wants to be loved. 

She doesn’t want to bring harm to anyone. 

Who would have known she will fall in love with two lovers. She falls in love and she brings them no good. She is at fault for breaking the love they have for each other. She doesn’t deserve them. She receives the love she wishes from one and then another. She can’t give them more lest she becomes what she is. Mina doesn’t want to cause harm to anyone, especially her two lovers. 

Mina just wants to be loved.

Is that too much to ask for?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wished for a cookie, and I got myself a bag of cookies. I want to share them with you...


	8. eye eye eyes.

She can feel the eyes on her. Eyes that stay on her body for far too long to be deemed innocent. Eyes that speak the desire of devouring her, sharing their heat together and worshipping her body. Eyes that doesn’t sway from her flirtatious behaviour, suggestive moves and the black dress that she dons knowing how short and inappropriate it is as she grinds on another that she doesn’t the name of.

She likes it. Sana likes the attention.

It isn’t her scene, not her usual kind anyway. It’s another club, near the edge of the city; hot, humid, loud and stinks of sweat. She didn’t expect much from a low maintenance club, so it’ll do.

Sana locks eyes with one pretty quickly. Slender, a little on the muscular side and about her height. One with the eyes that lingers for awfully long, with lips that she wants to get a taste of and a body that she wants to be under.

She approaches, and Sana feels a hand on her nape, brushing her hair aside, the slightest peck placed near the back of her ear. A hint of smile in the kiss, and Sana sways along.

There isn’t much to say, they leave rather quickly after. 

Sana had half-expected something else will happen.

But, like always, nothing.

Because she has always only watch.

Dahyun always just does.

And she never makes a move.


	9. an end.

She holds a hand that now feels foreign to her. It is not the same usual fit, no, she does not feel it. Even the way she slots her fingers in her lover’s feels different. It is not the same. 

Their love is quickly fading, or rather it has been since the start. A slow impending and eventual end has begun when she decided to hold her hand, when Jeongyeon decided to hold Nayeon’s hand for the first time. The table seems so much quieter than it has been before, and she does not know if she should be glad she does not need to feign interest or be disheartened that she does not seem to know Nayeon anymore. 

Her line of sight follows another, a face that hides secrets behind each mole and Jeongyeon longs to thaw them and discover each one. She is entranced. She knows she should feel sorry, yet she doesn’t. 

Because she knows it will just be only a beginning of another end.


	10. masterpiece.

The brush fell off her grip. Paint as deep as scarlet stained the insides of her fingernails, it ate away at her want for something, someone far from her grasp.

The painting did not come out as what she had thought. She couldn’t remember her face well – how the kind yet hot gaze had looked like and how the moles on the plain of her face drew a constellation like those of the space. But more than that, she couldn’t remember how the red lips had pulled back into a smile, or pushed up into a pout.

She couldn’t get the red right. It’s not the same deep red that she imagined on the canvas.

No, no paint made, not even the many shades, hues or tones of red could compare to her lips.

She craved for a perfect replication, a perfect recreation of the one she wanted; yet, she couldn’t get it right. The painting lacked of her essence, of the bright life in it.

Chaeyoung had loved the way she always looked after her, took care of her and she missed it. Chaeyoung had loved her and she did not understand why. She did not understand why and how Mina left her for someone else.

How did she not notice Chaeyoung looking from afar?

How did she not feel the love levitating from within the core of Chaeyoung’s heart?

_How did she not_. _How did she_ -

Chaeyoung’s breathing grew laboured as she coloured the lips with red as perfect as it should be. It was, then, flawless. It was a complete, living painting.

She captured it. She finally did it.

It had obviously passed midnight, though she would think it had only been an hour since she started in the evening to finish her piece. But it was a darker night than usual.

And there was a foul smell. Chaeyoung couldn’t quite discern what it was, but she was sure a foul smell was present when a loud blaring siren struck painfully against her ears.

What came next was a blur. There was a crash and her door fell, sharp flashlights glared into her room, shouts that called to her to get down, and when she didn’t obey, she was pushed to the ground with her temple connecting painfully to the red stained floor.

It was still wet, and the foul smell was still there.

In the corner of her eyes, she could make out a body, a corpse with a fruit knife still stuck in the left shoulder, lying next to many of her paintings; most canvases stained red near the bottom by the crimson pouring from the stabbed wound in the body but she could care less about them. She was faintly certain that the foul smell had come from the rotting body and the face on the corpse oddly resembled the last painting she had done.

She smirked, knowing she had done it.

She had finally perfected the life in the painting.

But something was wrong.

Something was different in the painting.

Her sullied wrists were clipped with cold, hard handcuffs, before she was pulled up and dragged further away from her masterpiece.

She saw it then. Her meticulous eyes saw it then.

The lips that were painted the perfect scarlet had turned into a dark brown that soiled the whole masterpiece.

The blood that dried.

The life that died.

And with her own bloodied hands, she killed the one that she desired the most.


	11. super far.

It turns to the worse.

Adulthood rolled in too suddenly, their love dimming in itself.

They were always in each other’s reach, each other’s reason to stay up late into the night as they talk, and each other’s warmth as they curled in the weekends on their worn out couches, alternating houses on Saturdays and Sundays, watching all the romantic movies they knew together.

They were so alike, and they are drifting further away.

Nayeon decided to pursue acting in Japan and planned to fly three weeks after graduation, while Jihyo stayed back to help her family out in the florist business. They promised, though, that they will and can find each other through a webcam.

They promised that they will be together for eternity, as they did when they were just children.

They hoped for the best.

The first few weeks greeted with I love you, over and over; their faces wearing grins, smiles and they barked out laughs at their life without each other.

The following months came with I miss you, reluctantly; their talks continuously stunted by phone calls.

And the year flashed with unhesitant silence. The flooding calls across countries gradually slowed and grew into missed ones.

She didn’t blame Nayeon, she was busy as she was, managing orders and tending to the flowers. She did wonder, however, what and how the other was doing then in a country that wasn’t called home.

The second year arrived, and so did a Valentine’s Day card on the fourteenth of February with a Christmas card on the twenty-fifth of December. Both from Japan, apologising for not being able to call her much; Jihyo loved it regardless.

The third year, unfortunately, passed with nothing.

Jihyo began to lose sleep then. She dreamt of her memories with Nayeon and woke up alone far too many times, wishing to be in her arms. It wasn’t fair, but she didn’t want to be selfish.

She waited; the flowers bloomed and wilted. Orders poured in, asking for flowers in wedding ceremonies, birth celebrations and funerals.

She bought a simple apartment nearby the shop with a bedroom, a bathroom, a living room and a kitchen. She decorated the apartment with flowers, white and yellow and red – all of the favourite colours of Nayeon. Every night she laid in bed, thinking and speaking to herself too much.

Fourth year flew in and news came that Nayeon had hit it big; her name plastered on billboards, her face on television shows, speaking a language that Jihyo doesn’t understand much of. Nayeon looked happy and Jihyo waited for the call.

It didn’t come.

By a day in the fifth year, Jihyo had realised something in her loss of sleep.

They lost hugs, touches, kisses, smiles each other; they have lost too much.

She broke down in the comfort of her own bedroom corner before she dialled seven numbers that she wished it still worked then. She cried into her phone, hoping to be heard on the other side. She cried and asked for an end to come – a wish Nayeon instantly granted then.

They had promises as they held hands, and here they end them through a call.

Both out of reach.


	12. foreboding | hell (iii).

They leave bites. Some hurt, some didn’t. Others are more prominent, and others are deliberately done to be hidden from eyes. Mina doesn’t mind, Mina loves them. And she feels belonged.

Heated as they are passionate in their love; she finds home in them. She finds her home, finally, after her long search and seek for one. For even one that does not leave, one that does not flinch when she touches them.

She finds her home. Nayeon is her home, the one that provides more of the fire and the heat she is. She loves it, the attention, sometimes overbearing, and other times, it’s just enough. Nayeon keeps her lit; keeps her from being extinguished, from vanishing. Nayeon keeps her alive.

When the love turns to spread her fire too much, she finds her. She finds her shelter. She finds one that tends to her, cares for her, and finds her as warm as a hug can give. Jeongyeon acts as a shelter, and she keeps her rooted. Jeongyeon keeps her fire from being too overpowering.

The hard bites on her chest left by Nayeon don’t hurt as much as they did in the beginning after a few days, while Mina can feel Jeongyeon’s playful bites, barely even there as she nips closer to her neck. She knows Jeongyeon is doing it on purpose, nipping her as soft as she can so to not hurt her.

Mina knows that.

And Mina knows the premonition, the omen in her will not subside.

And she fears that the end of her home and shelter is nigh.


	13. mourning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Jihyo Day...?

It has been two weeks now, but Jihyo is still sitting in the far corner of their dimmed apartment. It’s quiet, too quiet. The same usual shine and laughter does not come or resonate anymore.

The rain has not stopped for those two weeks now. Mina does not blame it. It at least drums on their window, filling the apartment with soft silence. There are flowers left at the side of their door, but most had wilted by now. Jihyo just had not been feeling well enough to take care of the flowers – what more with the flowers reminding her of everything she is actively, and unsuccessfully, avoiding.

They went through the same routine for fourteen days. They wake at the break of dawn, with Mina being able to feel Jihyo peering at the middle of their bed for hours, searching for _her_. Mina will remain motionless as she breathes deeply and out, always so patiently waiting for Jihyo to move first. The latter does get up to their shared and only bathroom, an hour and a half later of staring at nothing; Mina will get up then, she enters the bathroom and place two dry kisses on Jihyo’s cheeks.

She normally would plant only one, but Mina knows it is different now.

She is not here now.

They don’t talk for the rest of the day; Mina lets it be as she does not know what she can do to console her love’s broken heart, let alone fill the gap left in it. Mina still stay close, however, to watch over her only lover. Mina is worried for her, and Mina thinks that she is too. Even Mina knows Jihyo understands Mina’s concerns for her, with how the latter continuously reassuring that she is fine throughout their mournful days.

Mina is afraid, but for what, she does not want to think about. Mina is just afraid.

For the rest of a day, Jihyo sits in the far corner, on the armchair that they used to fight for. Mina will stay in the kitchen, though her eyes glances over every now and then – looking out for anything. Each time, she does, she can see Jihyo still gripping the framed picture. The picture that they took right after they graduated from college with the three of them together, their mouths grinning from ear to ear.

Mina knows that Jihyo must miss her very much. Mina misses her too.

They both miss her so, so much.

Mina will prepare a simple dinner as the evening approaches and the sun sinks below the horizon; she calls Jihyo over, and they quietly finish their food before they wash up and turn in for the night. The day ends, as always. Mina envelopes Jihyo in her arms, and she feels Jihyo grips her hands closer. Mina knows, though, that Jihyo does not feel comfortable because she had crossed it. Mina had crossed from the opposite – crossed _her_ side – to Jihyo’s.

But Mina does not want to think about that. Mina is just afraid; she is afraid that her only lover will turn up the same as her, as their lover, as Jeongyeon. Mina is just afraid that she will lose Jihyo as well. She can be strong for Jihyo now, but she knows. She knows she would not be able to handle losing another one.

Mina knows she will be broken, directionless and alone.

Mina does not want to feel any of that for she is afraid - afraid of many things. But, Mina promised herself – she promised herself to stay strong for Jihyo no matter what, for as long as Jihyo is still with her. She will stay strong; she takes a deep breath and she pulls Jihyo closer to her, her arms shaking.

And when Jihyo asked what is wrong, she played it off as shivering from the cold.

Mina has to be strong for both Jihyo and herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Jihyo Day.


	14. it'll be a good night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not angst; I have no idea what to classify this as.

She lies down on her side and sings a lullaby – neither perfect nor inept. Slow and worrying, the lullaby is carried around the quiet of their rented room. She watches the shoulders shiver every now and then, her neck, tensed, and head shaking from a nightmare that Tzuyu cannot see but it still winds itself into the head of her roommate.

While patting lightly at the hip of her friend, soft thumping sounds catch her attention and she looks to the source of the sound, finding the small hand, searching for something. Tzuyu reaches out and places her own hand in the seeking one; when the other hand finds it, Tzuyu does not expect a strong grip around her own but she does not mind anyway. She resumes patting the side of the hip and humming softly into the night.

She observes the balls under Chaeyoung’s eyelids not being able to stay still, and sees a long wrinkled frown on her forehead. Tzuyu curtly thinks, ‘ _What could she be thinking about now?_ ’ and gingerly pokes the centre of the frown, and like an unexplainable magic, it disappears and the face pictures a sense of peace.

With calculated and careful movements, she scooches over the tiny gap of their futons, closer to Chaeyoung before she curls her own body, laying her head gently on the other’s shoulder, nuzzles in the neck and inhales the scent – the scent of the earthy fragrance found in the spring and the pure magnolia that blossoms in the season; she hums softer and her pats at the hip falls lighter and lighter.

Chaeyoung had insisted on having their futons put together on this trip, stating how Tzuyu had always had bad dreams when they were having sleepovers and how it would be a pain for the latter to sleep alone. Tzuyu faintly remembers Chaeyoung saying she doesn’t want to risk having to wake up in the night because of her. ‘ _You should think of yourself first_ , _you dummie_ ,’ and Tzuyu closes her eyes.

For the next half an hour, Tzuyu whispers nothing into the air and promises not to let go of her hand in the night. Listening as Chaeyoung’s breathing begins, the exhaustion of their sudden trip to Japan (that Chaeyoung planned out; Tzuyu relented) seeps back into her and she yawns carefully, trying as to not disturb the sleep of the other.

She rubs over her eyes and gladly uses Chaeyoung’s shoulder as her pillow, nestling her head comfortably at the nook of her neck.

When her sleep does come and she pulls both their cold forgotten duvets over their bodies, Tzuyu promises her sleeping friend again.

She promises, whatever dreams Chaeyoung is having, that it will be a good night.

Just like how Chaeyoung had always done so in their sleepovers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, have a good night.


	15. flying.

Tall grasses grazed her calves, the rays of morning sun bathed her in the bright orange glow as she sprinted across the dewy meadow. Her feet were tired but her mind, her heart were too rushed to feel. Her entire body filled to the brim with too much adrenaline.

Chaeyoung never liked running but that didn’t stop her from sprinting out from a house that was not hers, ignoring her mum’s and Jeongyeon’s urges to wash up, and out of the village, narrowly avoiding bumping into the village wacky and bunglesome bully, Nayeon, and up the altitude – towards the mountain hidden high up behind the clouds. She was heaving, her lungs burned slightly from being out of breath but her smile had only grew. Her lacking stamina couldn’t stop her from what she wanted to do.

It was almost time, she could tell from the strong breeze blowing and she forced her short legs to pick up the speed. As she neared the cliff overlooking the other side of the mountain, she slowed to a stop, her face flushed from the running and excitement.

Looking past the white clouds and down at the foreign place – she asked her mum once, and she faintly remembered the name as the _airport_ – she could find a plot of bare sand stretched from one end to another; a bird-like structure – _airplane_ , she recalled – stood on one end.

The airplane, when Chaeyoung first saw it, was fascinating; the body had appeared too heavy to stand on its own and the wings were too sturdy to act like the pigeons’ that frequented the new telephone wires outside her home, but lo and behold, it surpassed her underestimation and really could fly.

_It flew_. Fast and high.

Chaeyoung had heard stories from visitors talking about how the airplane could hold people up in it; she didn’t want to be gullible, but she couldn’t help but be curious and eavesdropped on most of the details like how the chairs lined the airplane walls and how a few people would stand and serve the guests drinks and foods. She was in awe, and so was her best friend, Dahyun.

They spent nights of her tenth spring, with their homework left forgotten, talking about how cool it would be to ride the airplane once, and mornings watching the airplanes swished past the blue sky, listening, feeling the breeze as they laid on the grass, their hands tangled in unbridled innocence.

Dahyun told her that she would like to see Chaeyoung sitting in the airplane; the latter imagined and contemplated it.

“But, it wouldn’t be as fun without you beside me, _unnie_. You could be sitting on it and I’ll be happy too!”

And her words weren’t far off.

That winter, she found out that Dahyun and her family would be moving the next season after dinner. To _Seoul_ , her dad said, a place different from the village. When Chaeyoung asked if she could visit sometime soon, her dad responded with a ‘no’, and Chaeyoung automatically assumed it was because it was far away.

When the next day arrived, she bolted to Dahyun’s home straight when the first rooster crowed, her gloved fingers rapped on the door as she entered silently into the house and further into Dahyun’s room, her boots bringing in the melting snow. Deliberately, Chaeyoung tackled her friend, startling the one bundled up in warm blanket, as she congratulated her over and over. Dahyun laughed then and Chaeyoung felt something in her stomach.

To say she was happy would be an understatement. The feeling was oddly like she had been lifted from the ground – like jumping. She had been waiting and it finally came that one of them was going to sit in the airplane; Chaeyoung didn’t mind at all that she was not the one that would be experiencing it, she was simply overjoyed. For the whole winter, she helped Dahyun and her family, packing what was needed for the eventual move.

As the snow melted and the trees nourished into shades of green, the night before Dahyun leaves came much earlier than both of them had thought. With her dad’s permission, Chaeyoung decided to spend the night with her best friend in the nearly vacant house. She sat in front of Dahyun as Chaeyoung allowed her to comb gently through her wet hair, as they chatted loudly and animatedly into the night about how she pictured flying to be. Even when they had moved to the bed, she didn’t stop her chatters. All it took, however, was Dahyun holding and patting her to quieten herself down.

All Dahyun did was promise she would return for Chaeyoung to drift off to sleep...

And find that Dahyun was gone and the light were shining onto an empty side of the bed.

But she wasn’t late, Chaeyoung knew as she stood close to the cliff, watching as the airplane sped up, little by little, across the sand. She paid closer attention to the ant-like wheels as it elevated from the ground and the airplane flew up, drawing a shadow from the sky.

Her eyes squinted more and more as she watched the airplane grew smaller and tinier, similar to a speck of dust, disappearing along the horizon of blue. Chaeyoung wondered still – how it was like to fly across the blue sky.

She wondered about what Dahyun could be thinking, what Dahyun could be doing then.

Could Dahyun had been looking from above and down at the village as it departed?

Could she had been watching as the village turned smaller into dust like how Chaeyoung had done the same for the airplane that Dahyun was in?

Would Dahyun be thinking of her too?

Chaeyoung would never know, but she was contented.

Pulling air deep into her lungs, she yelled to the empty sky.

She yelled her goodbyes even though she wished to say that she would be waiting.

She yelled as long and loud as she could, the meadow of white and yellow flowers danced with the winds, until her voice was lost, her message passed and she slumped to the grass.

Chaeyoung, however, never did see Dahyun again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That didn't end up as how I wanted it to... Nah, I have every bit of intention to use the spice of angst.
> 
> (There's a week left to Mina's birthday, whoop.)


	16. guilt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A week old Happy Mina Day.

It should have lasted longer than it should, but the cherry blossoms fell much longer. It rained with pink petals, paving the ground with a vivid glow.

Perplexed, it was too perplexed.

The sun shone too brightly, people were too cheerful, and children too quiet. Everything, everything was too much but it was also not enough.

These were not things she wanted to be associated with - not the triggers to the emotions she wanted to feel.

Too peaceful, it was too peaceful.

She did not want her guilt to fade away too quickly. No, the massive guilt should and must sit with her. It must stay with her for as long as she knows what she has done. She had to be destined to be anchored with the heaviness in her heart, in the vast of darkness, deep under the ocean.

Nayeon felt exposed but it was not enough. She felt too clean, too light, too good.

She’s bad, she convinced herself. She’s bad for not loving Mina enough and finding another too soon. She’s bad for thinking another would be better than Mina.

She surrendered herself to the guilt, and yet.

And yet, everything was still too good to her.

It should have ran longer.

The guilt should have and the sorrow, as Mina left, should have too.

But, it did nothing but left only a tiny imprint of itself.

A fragment of Mina, a tear in her heart.

A tear that means nothing much when she knew the damage she had down to Mina’s was much greater.

She needed to be punished to feel better; she feared for the worst, and nothing came.

It was not enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This shorts was actually in my draft for months now and I thought I should post this, since writer's block is being an ass. Mina's birthday was a week ago but so I couldn't write at all, being swarmed with tons of assignments. I wanted to write as soon as I could, but my birthday fell on yesterday (good Friday), so I decided to spend the time with my family and rest - apologies.
> 
> Aye, but I received an early present - announcement of TWICE 2nd tour reaching to my city (finally) - and a belated one - the incoming comeback. Well, I got that goin' for me, which is nice.


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